41. Effie
41
EFFIE
A fter getting sucked into work, it’s long after lunch by the time I emerge from the building to the bright, blinding sunlight.
I take off toward home with the good intentions of showering and then mustering up some courage to speak to Kieran.
Just the thought of hearing his voice again sends a rush of nerves through me. I have no idea how I’m going to face him.
I stop at the store and buy myself some essentials and dinner, and just as I’m walking out, a flier on the neighborhood noticeboard catches my eye.
Adult dance classes for skills of all ages at a local dance company.
Shaking the crazy thought away, I keep walking.
I’ve got yoga now. Once work starts again on Monday, I’m not going to have time for anything else.
Thankfully, the walk back to my apartment is short, and I ride the elevator up with my arms loaded full of bags, more than ready to switch off for the day.
You still have to call Kieran , a little voice says.
Ignoring it, I begin putting my groceries away, but before I know it, I’m rearranging my cupboards. I know I’m only putting off the inevitable, and no matter how long it takes me, the same conversation will still be waiting.
He’s told me numerous times since he left that he wasn’t the one to give the media the story. He’s assured me that despite having told the publicist the truth, it was an intern who sold the story they’d agreed to cover up.
To begin with, I was angry and hurt. I guess, a part of me still is, and maybe always will be. But now that a little time has passed, I can see that all that really came out is the truth. Sure, there was no mention of Grams or my reasoning, which might have made me seem a little less unhinged. But ultimately, I did lie. I did make up a fake engagement with my best friend for my own benefit.
I may not have spent a lot of time online recently, but the few times I have logged in, I’ve cringed hard whenever a new article about it has appeared.
It was a stupid and naive thing to do.
Maybe it would have been okay if my best friend wasn’t a name that everyone knew. Maybe I could have gotten away without being America’s most-hated woman for a few days.
Of course, it’s mostly blown over now.
I guess, in the end, it hasn’t hurt his reputation. Things like this never hurt the one the nation loves; it’s always the nobody that ends up with scathing messages and death threats.
Thankfully, while I may have received my fair share of the former, I haven’t seen the latter.
I’d like to think that if I had, I wouldn’t have taken it seriously, or to heart, but it’s hard to say how I’ll feel about anything these days.
Things that usually wouldn’t affect me are suddenly making me cry. I saw an advertisement raising money for sick animals the other day, and I bawled like a baby.
Once I can no longer organize anything else in my kitchen, I drag myself through to the bathroom to shower and quickly find myself decluttering my bathroom cabinet of all the liquids and potions I’ve bought over the years and never used.
H ours have passed by the time I finally make it back to my kitchen and embark on cooking dinner.
I may not have called Kieran, but my apartment is very tidy. I’ve fully unpacked, and I’ve sorted out my closet with very strict rules about getting rid of things. There is a huge bag sitting in the hallway ready to go to Goodwill.
I just wish the saying “tidy house, tidy mind” was right.
There is nothing tidy about the shit in my head these days.
After making myself dinner, I curl into my favorite seat on the couch. It allows me the best view of the stadium. It’s sad, I know, but if I’m here and I know Kieran is there training or whatever, then I feel closer to him.
You’re too dependent , a little voice says.
Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath.
I’ve never considered my closeness with Kieran to be anything other than a good friendship before.
But everything is different now. I’m overanalyzing everything. Especially the way he made me feel that weekend…
Dragging my hair away from my face, I twist it up into a messy bun before grabbing my cell.
I open the stream of messages that have come in from him throughout the day.
Kieran: Happy Saturday! Do you have much planned?
Kieran: What’s the weather like with you?
Kieran: I’m spending the morning in the gym, then out with Kingston and Kian later.
I glance at the time.
He’ll be with them now.
My stomach knots at the thought of interrupting his time with his brothers.
Nope.
I’ll just call tomorrow when he’s not busy.
Forgetting about the one thing I was going to do today, I open up Instagram instead.
It’s a risk, one which I’ve regretted every single time I’ve done it over the past couple of weeks, but still, I torture myself with it.
My notifications are off the charts, but I only open the ones from people I know. Which, embarrassingly, is limited to Kieran, Brax, Tate, Lori, and a couple of girls from work. My circle is ridiculously small.
That’s probably a part of my problem with Kieran.
I don’t have any other friends. No real ones.
They’re either connected to him, or I work with them. But even still, we’re not exactly close.
If I had something outside of him, maybe all of this wouldn’t seem so bad.
Hell, maybe if I had a girlfriend to dissect it all with, it would be easier to understand.
Maybes aren’t going to solve any of this, though. I’m not suddenly going to find women who are happy to listen to all of my woes and help me navigate a way through it.
A laugh spills from my lips at a video Brax shared of a dog being a goofball.
I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, or he’s seen that I’m online and begins typing, but he does.
BraxtonWhitlock28: Hey, how’s it going?
EffieCampbell: It’s…going. Things are getting better every day.
BraxtonWhitlock28: You’ll get there.
BraxtonWhitlock28: Any news on your return?
My heart slams against my ribs, and my cell trembles in my hands.
I don’t want to point-blank lie to anyone. But I also don’t want to tell the truth either.
EffieCampbell: How’s camp been this week?
I hate myself for completely changing the subject on him, but I don’t know what else to do.
BraxtonWhitlock28: It’s been great. Kieran is in his element.
A smile pulls at my lips. Of course, the football season is his favorite part of the year, but being able to drop into the summer camps that the KC Foundation works hard to run, and meet the future NFL stars, is a huge deal for him.
And it should be. The KC Foundation is his baby. He’s the one who wanted to give back and help underprivileged families allow their kids to follow their dreams.
Of course, to a point, it’s my baby too.
We came up with the idea together, and along with Kingston and Kian, we turned a dream into a reality.
In only a few short years, we’ve accomplished so much and helped so many aspiring players get one step closer to achieving their dreams.
Kieran is proud, and rightly so. He’s helping to mold the future of the sport he loves, and that’s huge.
EffieCampbell: I always love watching him with the kids. It makes him really happy.
BraxtonWhitlock28: You know you’re welcome any time. He’d love to have you there.
My breathing falters. It would be so easy to turn up and surprise him.
But that’s even more panic-inducing than picking up the phone and talking to him.
Brax and I message a few more times before he lets me know that he’s heading out, and my cell falls quiet.
Jumping over to my feed, I begin scrolling, but I come to a stop when I see another advertisement for the dance classes.
I read the post, which gives much more information than the flier. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve opened up a web browser and I’m searching the dance company to find out more.
They have adult classes on Monday and Thursday evenings covering all kinds of dance. But it’s the ballroom and Latin classes that spark my curiosity.
Grams and Gramps used to go to weekly dance classes. She inspired me from an early age, and once upon a time, I knew everything from the Cha-Cha to the Waltz.
I even taught some to a reluctant Kieran. Memories of dancing with him in the bandstand not so long ago come back to me. My nose itches as I battle with my emotions.
That was before anything happened between us, but it was building. I might have been doing my best to ignore it, but I’d never been as aware of the way his body pressed against mine as I was that night.
I let out a sigh, my eyes lifting to the windows and then up to the sky.
Grams would love it.
With a smile playing on my lips, I sign myself up for both classes.
Maybe this is the start of finding myself a life outside of Kieran and work.
Who knows, maybe I’ll find a friend. Or maybe even a boyfriend.
My brows pinch.
No, not a boyfriend.
B efore I know it, my alarm is going off first thing Monday morning, so I can do yoga before going to the office for the first time with my coworkers in months.
Today my return to Chicago will no longer be a secret.
Nerves flutter violently in my stomach.
Right now, as far as I’m aware, only Henry knows that I’m back. But the second I step into the KC Foundation offices, all that will change.
Everyone knows the Foundation is Kieran’s. The gossip mill will be rife.
I should have called him yesterday.
I got close. I had his contact open in front of me.
But…I couldn’t hit that button.
I’m a coward.
I hate that he’s going to find out from someone else. He’ll hate me for it too.
Is this really what we’ve become?
I force my heavy, sleeping limbs into my yoga gear before making my morning greens and unrolling my mat.
The sun is only just rising above the buildings, casting the whole city in a beautiful orange hue.
Sucking in a deep breath, I raise my arms above my head and let everything go.
This is my time. Nothing in the world matters but me right now.